


Fallout: The Road To Hell

by Soulreaver_722



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 22:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulreaver_722/pseuds/Soulreaver_722
Summary: This is a prequel for my eventually coming works based on the "modern day" time period of 3 to 4, where my characters such as Elijah exist. This is a story about the raider gang Elijah comes from as he's arguably the main protagonist of my universe, and I felt this was also a good idea in general. This will start out as journal entries but may become third person a ways in to  experiment with my writing. Please give feedback, I'm very new to this!





	Fallout: The Road To Hell

The year is 2099, I think. It's been at least 20 years since the bombs dropped, I know that much. I've decided to write my thoughts in a book, since I found one blank. No one keeps track of years anymore, just hours, days and seasons. If winter ever caught us by surprise we'd freeze. Fucking commies brought a nuclear winter, half s decades worth as far as we can tell. Then again, it was the fucking president and his dick measuring contest with the commies and their lack of ability to change brought it in the first place. So fuck them too.

I suppose I should clarify who I am. Well my name doesn't matter, all you need to know is I'm about 45-49, and before the war I was part of the Canadian mob, also known as the Mafia. Yeah, we had one. Some of us even became ghouls, but now those ones have their make believe gangs, the "triggermen". Bunch of assholes clinging to the past, ignorant of what true strength is or what long term survival requires. Then again, they're here too, so what can I say. Anyway, I'm what some people I've run into over the years call a raider. Well I want to live, and I'm stronger than them, so I'll take their stuff. We weren't always like this. I wasn't always like this. I tried to live peacefully. I think I made it a year and a half in my own before I started this gang. We needed food, so we stole. We needed water, so we spread. We needed shelter, so we killed. I'm not the same chem maker I was before the war; I think I'm worse. I've killed kids so we could eat. Burned entire towns so any groups of the government out there don't find us. I've sent men on suicide missions to prove a point to the outside world: that we do what needs to be done, even if we have to die for it.

Some other raider gangs have stupid fucking names: The Vipers, Bone Dusters, Blood Scorchers, you get it. We're not like those other gangs. We don't rape, enslave or torture. We try to do as little evil as possible, although I think our souls are still black. We kill those too weak or old to contribute, and only allow the smartest and strongest to have children. We sell chems whenever we can, for food and bullets, mostly. Someone mentioned a group down by California uses bottle caps as money, and Georgie thought we should too. Georgie is a fuckin idiot who half the time I debate killing, but he's a good cook and an even better fuck, so we keep him around. Maybe if he was smarter, he'd be a breeder. 

But I've been rambling enough. You want to know how I got here, who I really am and how I acquired such strength. I'll get to that, but first you have to know I tried to be a good person. The bombs where I was weren't too close, so I lived. I thought it was a clean slate, square one for humanity. Maybe I was a fool for thinking people would try to be better after the bombs. But I'm not a fool anymore.


End file.
